Life-Its A Bad Joke
by Enked
Summary: A young high school track star's life is dramatically twisted when she is forced into a society of guns and murder. She thought she knew how the world worked. She believed everything that was told to her. Until she discovers reality is more cruel than she ever imagined. Consumed by the mad circus daily tasks become a struggle to survive. "words will never hurt me-what a bad joke."


**Ok so first Joker fic! Just had to give it a try!**

**Now, I don't like to give physical details away all at once. Second, I don't care to explain everything like word vomit in the first couple of chapters. I mean after all what's the fun in that? Lol. So you have to continue reading to know more about these characters. I'm evil like that.**

**Hope the first chapter isn't boring. Just enjoy!**

**All characters except the OC do not belong to me. Just writing for fun! **

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~Chapter 1~

"Don't Throw Up"

~Now~

Waking up is the hardest part of the day. Not because of your heavy eyes or the stiff muscles that pop when first move. Neither the sticky salvia in your throat or the rat's nest on your head is even a fraction of what makes the mornings the most difficult part of the day. Even the hellish night before does not compare to the unpredictable moments of the rising sun. _Mornings are horrible_. It's the fluttering of your heart against the quiet air that sends adrenaline through your veins. Can you image every morning not knowing what is to come? Can you fathom the idea that today might be the day that a bullet goes through your head or a knife might sink into your chest? Would it bother you knowing that your life is no more valuable than road kill on a busy street? Well, would you believe me if I told you I have come to terms with all this? Could I convince you that I have learned to live my life this way… the way to stay alive? It's a game you see. And with every game comes rules. Follow the rules and you might win the game. Winning means freedom_. Freedom means life… _

I stare at the mirror saying this stupid saying repeatedly. I have come to believe in my mind that if I keep breathing these words, the words that I would say to any journalist or interviewer who wants to know the details about my story. That maybe these dreamy ideas about being free will come true. I practice every day. I recite my lines and mentally jot down my words of wisdom. I will become known, recognized. My face and story on headlines, my name will be forever plagued. THE GIRL WHO SURVIVED.

I turn away from the mirror and headed toward my closet door. Quietly creaking it open I knelt down and begin patting the floor until I tap a hollow section. One more hit to the ground and I knew I found my hidden compartment. I whip out my pocketknife, a little blade, but it would be enough to do the trick. Placing the tip in the crack of the ground I pry open the door to my covered stash. My heat thuds like an over stimulated jackrabbit. I can feel my hands start to sweat and I realize my grip on my knife is slipping. I catch my breath when I hear distant noises. _A car?_ _Footsteps?_ Snapping out of my fear I immediately grab the once hidden bag. I am proud of how heavy it is. Swiftly I carry my treasure my bed, a worn out piece of shit mattress on a broke frame, and with trembling fingers I pull out a smudged piece of paper. On it I had written my one-way ticket out of here.

~Then~

"Ah, you're a wake! Nice to see you have come to, kiddo." A screechy voice torments my ears.

I pinch my eyes together at the foreign sound and moan as the pain in my body rushes over me. I slowly begin to move my jaw. It is tight and sore as if I had been grinding my teeth for weeks. I test my swallowing ability and struggle to get a ball of spit to glide down my throat. I wince as I unstick my eyelids. I can feel the inflammation surrounding my eyes and my vision is glassy.

"Wha-What?" My voice softly chokes out. I am barely able to raise my head. I feel as if the ocean and all its inhabitants are swimming around in my skull. A cackling figure leans towards me

.

"Ha, hopefully we don't have uh, well any brain damage. Don't need ya know-a non-functioning individual. Get what I'm sayin'?" The person's voice deepens as he drags out the last sentence. Almost like it was meant to be a hushed statement.

My vision is still poor however I can see some faint objects. I believe I saw what looked to be barrels, ropes, cord, tape, and guns were scattered around like an abandoned warehouse. I scrunched up my noise as my senses were resuming and greeted with the pungent smell of gasoline and smoke (not to mention the horrid left over fast food stench). Before I can glance at the man I'm unexpectedly propelled to the left side of the area. I yelped when my head bounced against a metal barrels. I could feel my arm start to tingle from the collision. I groaned as the pain settled in like needles and my tormentor howled with laughter.

"Oh yeah, uh sorry about that kiddo forgot to mention our little short of seat belts. Seem to be lacking a bit in the child safety regulations!" Another snort of chuckles echoed. _Child?_ Again, I was thrown but instead towards the back of the vehicle's corner. I could feel metal pricking my skin as I settled in the crest of the car. God I felt nauseous. The stop, go, stop, go motion of a speeding vehicle would make anyone want to vomit let alone if they had a brewing headache.

"I-I don't know you-", were the only pathetic words I could fumble out of my lips. _Oh please don't throw up. _ The figure in front of me chuckled again.

" No?" The man raised a tone, paused then flatly said, "Ah good evaluation, kid. " He emphasized the "d" as if to make the point stronger.

"Did-did my parents send you?" I asked still half in a daze. I couldn't tell you my name if my life depended on it (yes even though this was one of those moments). My brain was still in a fog and I could feel my mouth still partially gapped open. I was just then remembering to breathe.

"Uh, why is it your Birthday?"

I just stare with my eyes half open and struggled to put a questionable look on my face. Anyone would have guessed I had done drugs before all of this.

"See", the person paused, "most typical, uh parents would send a clown for a kid's birthday. And well, a normal family would not have a hired a clown to kidnap their child. Now would they?" I could feel the pressure to think about his statement but I was still struggling to recall my name.

"So," The man's voice fluctuated to a higher tone, "I'm assuming and honestly you should too that its not your special day nor have your parent's broke the bank to hire me for a personal kidnapping and entertainment." More giggles erupt. I squint trying to make sense of everything. _The fuck _is all I could envision my father saying at a time like this.

"M-m-my parent's hired you? It's not my birthday. Uh-is it?" I say with a slur in my voice. Just like my speech my mind begins trailing off. _The heck is wrong with me?_

"You're a little uh thick aren't ya." The man snorts.

"I'm not, not fat." I weakly spit back. I can hear tire screeching and some other men in the front cursing about not being able to run over pedestrians. Suddenly, comes to a slamming halt. I had no time or ability to brace myself as I hit nose first on the floor. I heard a sickening crack. Seconds later blood poured from my face like an untangled hose. I screamed as every moment I breathed I could feel my nerves catch fire. Oh god did it hurt. The most pain I had ever endured was a shin splint. This, this pain was in its own category for me.

I tried to grab my nose but I found myself bound. How did I not realize this before? I struggled, cried, and began to panic. Though I was still slightly foggy from earlier I was coming to life from the pain that consumed my airway. Tears drained down my cheeks.

"Oh my go-god! Oh my god! Ma-Make it stop!" I thrashed against the ropes. I yelled whatever I could muster. God damn it I was either getting free or going to literally drown out the pain. Before I could voice another cry my ribs were busted. I froze and then felt myself go from ranting to silent hissing.

"Would you just hush?" My kidnapper snapped. It was a short simple command like something a parent would say to a toddler who kept pestering them. I rapidly sucked in air trying to dull now both the throbbing in my nose and side.

"Been awake for a few minutes. Can only image what's to uh come. Probably have to become a permanent resident at the hospital at the rate your going." The man stepped forward and knelt over me. I was lying on the ground with my head looking up at him. I jolted when I saw his makeup. Smudged coal colored rings circled around both his eyes. Chalky paint covered his complexion like a bad make over and his lips were decorated in scribbled on lipstick? _Oh now I get the birthday joke…_

I flinched when I felt his leather touch.

"Hmmm-" He hummed as he dug his fingers into my cheeks. He tossed my head from side to side and up and down examining me like a rotten piece of fruit not worthy of a nickel. I coughed.

"Uh huh. " The clown cleared his throat. He was about to bring his other hand to my face when I flinched away in terror.

"Please don't touch me." I whispered between sobs.

"Oh now, we wouldn't want that uh blood to stain your pretty little face would we?" He still held me in his grasp. He raised his hand again.

"No." My voice shook as I stood my ground. I could feel the rumbling of the vehicle. The engine revved and so did my kidnapper. "Just let me go home."

The man licked his lips.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?" I pinched my eyebrows together. _Scars? _ Without warning a stinging cold piece of metal was shoved against the inside of my check. I squirmed. My eyes were wide in horror.

"No-no-no! No please!" I begged. The man ignored my cries and gripped my face harder. I was more afraid than hurt at this point.

"Sh-shhh-shhh,"

My heart pounded.

I felt sick.

The stabbing, ripping, gut wrenching pain kind of sick.

_Don't throw up. _

"You see," The man began and the entire time I could feel the clanking of that blade against my tongue and teeth. It slowly turned in my mouth. Blood continued to drain from my nose. It seeped down across my lips like an unholy fountain_. Don't throw up. _

"When I was a child uh, much like yourself. Growing up there were no time outs. There wasn't simply having a favorite toy taken away. There was no such thing as skipping dessert for one night. You see, uh punishment was meant to be punishment. It wasn't just a slap on the wrist." His voice sneered but his expressions were animated like a cartoon.

The man dragged out his words and toyed with_ that_ knife.

"Talking back kiddo calls for punishment." His voice dropped, his head lowered, and I could see the evil glimmer of his eyes focus on me. I shook.

"I did-I didn't-" He interrupted me.

"Don't lie, my dear, everyone hates liars. Be truthful you would wear it better." He snickered. My rib cage tightened with fear.

_That _bladebegan digging into the side of my cheek. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be strong and do a deviant act. My mind visualized what I wanted to do. I would to show this piece of shit I was strong not worthy of messing with. Maybe I would spit in his face. Maybe I would cuss at him and bare my teeth like an angry dog. Threats were also a possibility along with more profanity. But instead, I remained quiet. Silent tears fell and they were the only voice I had.

"Try to at least have some courage. Oh how you're uh father would be so disappointed to see his little girl a crumbling mess. How pathetic. No wonder he sold you." The clown's words were verbal daggers.

"That-that's not true." I squeaked like a church mouse.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I-" I trailed off hoping to remember the last time I saw him. The man chuckled darkly as if getting a kick at my oblivious mind.

He twisted the knife, "Exactly."

"No-no I saw him this morning. He told me. I mean we were talking about." I paused suddenly remembering our spout before I left for school.

"Oh what a tangle web we weave!" The clown sang.

The blade slightly nicked my tongue. Blood taste so bitter.

"That's a fucking lie!" I shout out of my gurgling mouth. My kidnapper stopped grinning. His face contorted to one of rage. He slapped me across my face. My nose poured. I gasped not expecting the reaction.

"Shut your mouth kid before you join the circus." He shoved my neck to the vehicle floor and pressed all his weight on my trachea. The pressure from his hand started to bind my oxygen from flowing to my lungs.

"Boss, right or left?" Another young male voice shouted from the front seat.

"Head to 5th street location. We will be needing a spare room. Won't we?" He cocked his head at me. A smirk crept across his scars. The vehicle veered right. The road became rough and my head pounded from the thudding of the ride and not to mention the added stress. _Don't throw up. _

"Now," His attention turned back to me, sadly, "be still."

He removed his hand from my throat. I drowned the air into my lungs. My chest rose and fell rapidly, enjoying the relief from the oxygen. I was too distracted to realize his hand heading toward my broken nose. Once I felt his touch my body tightened. I jerked my knee up and nailed him in the gut. It must have been effective because I heard him grunt. But it wasn't worth the delay.

He stood up and with out much warning slammed his foot onto my collarbone. I shrieked in agonizing pain. I curled into a ball. Hoping I could squeeze away the aching sensation. All it managed to due was cause me to choke on my blood. Hot tears flooded my chest, as I remained curled.

"St-stop!" I cried. I felt another kick collide with my spine. I just wrapped myself tighter. I thought it acted like a barrier.

"Look at me." He said in stern tone. I whimpered slowly unraveling myself. My face slowly lifted to see his smeared mask. He knelt down again and gripped my chin. He looked me over again, now I was probably lower than rotten fruit in his mind. He glided his fingers over my collarbone. I bit my lip. It hurt but I wasn't about to voice my opinion.

"Just like your daddy." He whispered to me. His stained teeth mocked me. I felt defeated and sick.

He moved bleached strains of hair from my eyes. And slowly rubbed the side of my head, as if that would subside my headache. I wish I could say it calmed me down but instead I was more frightened. I shut my eyes.

He stopped for a moment, "Shame. I was hoping your death wouldn't be as boring as his. Huh, such a waste of good film." My eyes shot open. He moved his hand to my wet cheeks and attempted to wipe away my tears. If I could have clutched my stomach I would have but my wrists were fussed together. I didn't really have a second to think as I flung myself over and vomited my nerves.

I threw up until my throat burned with acid. I still was hunched over coughing up everything when I heard him chuckle behind me. He wrapped one arm around my waist like a snake catching his pray.

"Shh Shhh. Now don't worry uh, kiddo, the fun will go on. After all it's only been the first day of the circus. " He placed his other hand over my eyes. I quietly cried as my stomach turned and nose still bled.

_Don't throw up._


End file.
